Last night, I left Baby Girl for the first time. A friend from school is moving abroad & it was her leaving do. We haven’t bought Baby Girl her ear defenders yet, so her Dad stayed home to look after her while I went out for a few hours.
I’d left them with three & a half feeds prepared in bottles as Baby Girl cluster feeds 5-9pm. I did the 6pm feed then left them to it. Safe to say I was a nervous wreck by the time I reached my destination, checking my phone every few minutes until I left at 9:30. (We’d agreed I’d be home by the Dream Feed incase they were out of bottles.)
It was lovely to see everyone & do something strangely normal. But I felt a little guilty. As I got off the tube, dare I say it, it was a little like Baby Girl didn’t exist. It was like old times (bar the fact finding something that fit with boobs twice the size as usual had been a trial!). As the night went on though, that feeling faded as everyone wanted to talk about her & by 9pm I had a constant reminder as my boobs were tingling & starting to hurt after missing a few feeds.
But I did it. I got out of the house on my own for a few hours. I put make up on & had a beer (which I later found out supposedly boosts milk production. Utter fail on a night when I’m not doing my usual feeding!).
And Baby Girl & her dad coped brilliantly. And when I got home, the usual ‘Dad cliches’ were no where to be seen: Baby Girl’s routine was still in tact, she was tucked up in bed after the 9pm feed, her dad looking cool as a cucumber. Even the bottles were washed & ready to be sterilised. What more could a Mama hope for.